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I didn’t know why, but that felt more final than me quitting. Maybe because I wouldn’t know where to find her now. I didn’t even have her phone number.
The doors slid open, and Cassie turned to me. Maybe it was a moment of weakness—maybe she was right in thinking I didn’t have any principles—but I was ready to forget everything and start over, if she could.
Judging by the look in her eyes, she couldn’t.
And then she moved her box to one arm and reached for me—no, for the plant. She caressed one heart-shaped leaf, running a finger down its stripe of cream. “Goodbye.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant that for me or the plant, but she strode off the elevator.
I must not have been in my right mind because I was straight-up jealous of a plant. Of all the ways Cassie had taken care of me when I was sick, with the hazmat suit, she’d never been able to so much as pat my hand directly.
I wasn’t sick—so far—but I would never be whole without that. I took a step toward the elevator doors, but a nurse wheeling out a new mom and a newborn stepped on, the proud papa toting no fewer than ten balloons, car seat awkwardly dangling in his other arm.
Wow, thanks, universe, I couldn’t have remembered I was totally alone without that.
By the time they were on and I’d edged past them, Cassie was nowhere in sight. After traversing the entire first floor twice, I slowed to a stop in front of the atrium’s David Beaufort statue, the full-size version of the one in my box. I still didn’t know exactly who he was, but they made him look like the epitome of wisdom.
He didn’t have answers for me. He probably couldn’t have even understood the questions. Time to admit defeat and head down to the garage.
I placed my box in my Bentley’s trunk, careful not to crush Phil’s trailing leaves. I looked at the cream stripe Cassie had caressed again. Phil was great as plants went, but I could have smashed his ceramic pot right then if it meant Cassie would touch me with half the caring she’d given this plant.
Instead I closed the trunk and sat in the driver’s seat and remembered every time Cassie was close enough to touch me. The plane, the break room, the balcony...
Every time we’d had a moment. Every time we’d fought. Just like Cassie said.
I’d brought up Dr. Donaldson on the plane, and I kept at it when I knew it was making her mad.
I’d taken her completely innocuous Harper Tyne quote in the break room as an attack and taken her to task for it.
I’d harped on Dr. Donaldson’s attraction again on the balcony because she’d asked about Everett, sincerely trying to make sure we’d be okay.
Ihadpicked fights with her—every time she got close to me. How could I do such a thing?
As soon as I asked myself, I knew.
Cassie wasn’t the only one who tried to be practically perfect. I’d worked so hard to make her like me, yes—but I’d wanted her to like Ubercompetent Worker Davis, the guy who was so good at everything that people would have to like him. Cassie was over there, 1000% authentic at all times, and the only thing real about me was the diamond in my Rolex.
Every time she got close to Broken Lonely Davis, I’d brought out a blowtorch. Because... if she got close, if she knew Broken Lonely Davis, she’d abandon me, too. Like my parents and Everett and everyone else who’d ever cared about me.
I ran my hands through my hair. Abandonment was still a risk—it always would be. And maybe that was why I didn’t handle the situation better and why I wasn’t past the hurt. Because I was so sure texting Everett was somehow another way of trying to break me that I brought out the blowtorch once again, preemptively incinerating a relationship that might leave a mark.
And look where that had gotten us. She’d managed to find a way to burn me anyway.
I gripped the steering wheel—but then I relaxed.HadCassie burned me?
Didn’t I know her at all? Cassidy Croft couldn’t do that. She genuinely thought her meddling was helping me in some way because she didn’t know Everett. And how could she know? It wasn’t like those stories made it intoPeople. I certainly hadn’t told her.
She wasn’t trying to crush me. She was doing the opposite of the neglect and rejection I’d endured as a sick little boy and ever since then: she’d cared probably a little too much, done too much for me. Like she’d said: it was easy to love some things to death.
I. Screwed. Up.
What if... someone could care about both Ubercompetent Worker DavisandBroken Lonely Davis?
I needed Cassie back. I got out of the car to run after her, but I made it all of two steps before I realized I had no idea where to go.
I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I sat back in my car and called Luke. He answered on the second ring.
“Can you think of any position we could invent for a doctor?” I asked.
